Gorillabuns

today, i would have received my 30 day chip

I'm guessing I'm still pregnant since the doctor's office hasn't called me back after yesterday's uneventful appointment.  Actually, if I had any sense at all, I should have forgone the damn meeting and spent the time hidden in a corner at the local bookstore. Time spent there would have been a lot less stressful and more fruitful.

Results I know you are dying to know about yesterday's poke-n-mash:

a) I'm FAT. Fatter than fat. Screw the 10lbs I was worried about gaining - let's just skip onto the Freshman 15. I do believe after this adventure is all said and done, I will weigh more than a sumo wrestler and will be forced to wear their large bolts of fabric around my ass like a diaper. Please don't stare if you see me walking/waddling down the street.

b) I can pee thirty times in one evening but when it comes to peeing in a cup at the doctor's office - I can't seem to squirt a millimeter of urine into the Dixie cup. I guess I have pee-on-demand anxiety.

c) I was reminded I was OLD no less than four times during my 15 minute exam. Yea, well... I'm fertile like some YOUNG backwoods pregnant 16-year-old so, why keep mentioning the obvious? To make me feel, ummm... older?

d) Even though my doctor didn't even try to listen for a heartbeat, I do get an ultrasound in three weeks. Because I'm old and also to check for "fetal abnormalities" due to my oldness. awesome.

e) Jury is still out on if I'm carrying multiples - if you saw the girth I'm sporting, you would seriously wonder if I have a soccer team fertilizing the lawn in there.

f) Even though I/we can't predict the future of this embryo and it's will or ability to stick around, I DO know how much I will have to pay in full to the OB by October 25th. If something unfortunate does happen, I do hope their business office will reimburse me quickly to restock my liquor cabinet.

g) My hospital of choice of which I delivered BOTH my babies at is no longer available for use with my OB. I'm not happy with this discovery. I guess I should interview ALL the nurses at the new place to see if they are willing to slip me my medication an hour early without making me point to the pain chart on my level of pain. I will also ask them if they have ever had a c-section and if they have, they are the only chicks able to tend to my reasonable/unreasonable post-partum self.

h) The only bright and shining spot of news I received yesterday: I will deliver this year! Let us not mention that I will be delivering around Moira's birthday and Christmas but DUDE!!! ONLY ONE INSURANCE DEDUCTIBLE!!! Saving money far outweighs the thought of being in the hospital around Christmas or New Years.

elbow

Well, if you are expecting some spectacular update about my burgeoning girth - wait in line. It seems  I'm a complete dumb-ass and showed up to my OB appointment early. Something like four days early. I SWEAR they told me today. I don't just make up random appointments out of thin air.  Hell, it's hard enough to wake up early and perform extra special grooming practices on my lazy self. Now, I have to perform this ritual all over again on Tuesday. Yea me!

So, until next Tuesday. Though, I will be sweet and share with you my new favorite song/group of the moment - Elbow.  If it weren't for my sweet and thoughtful friends, Susan and Kim, I would be stuck listening to fifteen year old Cd's. Thanks guys for keeping me in the "know."

">elbow - The bones of you

driving sideways

I'm on my way to Barnes and Noble to pick up a brand spankin' new copy of a fellow blogger's debut book, "Driving Sideways." I'm doing this because a) Summer is almost here and I need something to read while baking my little pinto bean in the backyard - pretending to watch the kids play. b) Jess Riley asked me to do so and if she asked me, well... I better follow-through. I'd hate to make her cry. c) I need a book for the next round of the on-line sexy exy book club.  d)  With my nose buried deep in a book, my Internet consumption will be way down and thus, my husband will be less likely to chew my ass for wasting time.  Besides, I can read this book while hiding in the bathroom or closet. If I haven't shared this with you, I do hide from time to time in these special places in the house. Shhh.... Just don't share this information with my kids. I'd hate to have to go and find another hidey hole.

Anyway, if you are an adventurous sort of person who might like to live on the wild side - run out and support a fellow blogger making her dream come true. A BIG DREAM COME TRUE, that is. So, GO and BUY her book!! Please and thank you!

You know what my big super-duper dream would be? The ability to not gain ANOTHER ten pounds before my first doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. That would be a special and exciting dream. Not likely, but special nonetheless. OH!! and not having more than one blueberry inside my womb.  I don't think it would be very funny if I had a bunch of berries I had to raise until fruition. I'm quite sure they'd rot from my lack of stamina and drive these days. Seriously!!! Let's hope there is only ONE "thing" in there and it's alive and kicking.

Until tomorrow....

don't tell me i'm the only one who saves these

What exactly is the statute of limitations in saving these little gems of condiment love?

5 dresses

Rich rented "27 dresses" last night for my lazy and bloated viewing  pleasure. Actually, I requested him to find the movie and to not return until he had it firmly embedded in his hot little hand. For some ungodly reason, I was in the mood for a chick-flick. Be assured, this is an uncommon occurrence and I blame the hormones for such a weakness in my character.

Honestly, I have to admit - I liked the flick. I liked it because I HAVE BEEN the person who pleased the bride-to-be before, during and after their wedding. Helping them plan their events, pick out a wedding dress, hold their dress out of the commode while they peed, toasting to their "good fortune," drinking all their free alcohol and running from the sling-shot bouquet toss when the humiliating "single ladies" round-up occurred (this situation was where I would draw the line in aiding and supporting.)

I helped every prospective bride because I was secretly in love with weddings just like the main character in the movie and sadly - in love with being in love (Let us not discuss my lack of stable relationships during most of the weddings I gracedattended.)

After the credits started rolling across the screen, I thought back to the good, the bad and the down-right ugly in bridesmaid's dresses I had worn in the past. While I think I've been in more than 5 weddings, I could only muster up 5 pictures of proof. You know you want to see them. I won't even make you beg.

Let's start with the first wedding that pretty much ruined me for all wedding in the future (including my own.)

Here I am, a spry twenty-two, virgin eyebrow plucking college Senior. The black velvet bridesmaid's dress was from Victoria's Secret and bordered on new and crazy for a bridesmaid in 1991. The black velvet part that is. This event would happen to be the only time in my life in which I wore a size 4 (I blame the drastic diet of wisdom teeth extraction for such an awesome feat.) This was the only wedding in which I did not have to pay a cent for the privilege of being a bridesmaid.

I quickly learned, this windfall of good fortune is not always the case during subsequent weddings.

The next wedding occurred in July 1993. 

God love you Tiffany (and I really do) but burgundy velvet and shiny taffeta are not a winning combination during the hottest day of July in Oklahoma. I do believe I lost around 10lbs during the 30 minute ceremony and strangely enough, my fresh and thick matte makeup failed to drip and run during such climate issues and equally held up during hysterical tears. The tears were not for the bride and her moment but for my boyfriend who was not in attendance to walk me down the aisle. The ass-wipe of a boyfriend would happen to be Rich who just so happened to be enjoying his sweet self on a second tour of duty in Alaska. Fishing. I chose to stay in Oklahoma, graduate and attend this wedding. Alone.

Note to self: Less is more in the eyebrow powder department.

Third? Who is to say when this wedding occurred but I think it was in December of 2004 (and why yes, this IS a picture of a picture. This would explain the tilted vision of loveliness.)

I happened to be encased in a lovely Emerald green velvet dress in which the shear weight of this beauty hindered and obstructed my drunk free-falling ass down a large hill. This was the night of many firsts. Two-steppin' it to country music, promises of free trips to Paris the next month by willing suitors, the almost puking into a Poinsettia wrapper instead of the Poinsettia owner's nice Mercedes followed by my locking the bathroom door, puking and then passing out at a wedding after party - which happened to be the Poinsettia owner's beautiful three story home. The most horrifying event of all? I was forced to sleep in a Garth Brooks t-shirt after the bathroom door had been successfully picked open by the hostess. A subsequently lengthy and long discussion arose over my modesty and my inability to willingly don on the offensive t-shirt. Sadly, the hostess won the argument. Strange enough, I was invited to parties at this residence for years to come however, I did have to promise to not lock any doors during my visits.

The next wedding? I was single. Rich and I weren't dating and I was semi-newly heartbroken over another idiot with whom I had been engaged to earlier that year.

(I know you're wondering why I had to take another picture of a picture instead of scanning this beaut. The answer is? I'm totally lazy..... and an inept photographer.)

This dress was purchased for me without my measurements taken into account. Free? I'll take it! and not look in the mirror and hide behind bouquets. Don't worry about me......Really..... As you can see, I pretty much drank my way through the reception to ease the pain and suffering of having a dress fit too tightly around the hip/saddle baggage action.

Note to self: celery green looks like shit on me. Never wear it again.

2002 - a.k.a. too old to be a bridesmaid or matron of honor- p.s.s. done with the whole attendant gig: Pregnant with Celia and I do believe fresh from the bathroom from either crying or puking my bloated guts up. Notice the awesome BIG boning in the strapless unshapely bodice? Notice the 20 yards of red taffeta bunched unsuccessfully under the bodice? Notice how hugely HUGE I am while pregnant? Note this was the only wedding I have attended sober. I guess one out of fifty isn't so bad.

This would conclude my walk down bridesmaid lane. I thought I would throw in a picture of my bridesmaid's dresses from my own wedding in May of 2000.

These two piece dresses were hand-sewn with love by my sweet little arthritic Grandmother - laced with promises of the ability to wear the skirt again -topped with a nice cardigan and pearls whispered in skeptical ears. Yep, I was a total cliche. I seemingly uttered the same corny line I had been diligently fed throughout my wedding attendant years while knowing full well - bridesmaids never want to wear this shit again.